


Starting Over

by twisting_vine_x



Series: Scratching Out A Life [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, I gave myself feels, M/M, Sexual Content, Zombie AU, this is one of the most sentimental things I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisting_vine_x/pseuds/twisting_vine_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/N: The final part of my Haikyuu!! zombie AU.</p><p>
  <i>He's pretty sure if Hajime watches him try to stumble down the remaining stairs between them, their reunion is going to consist of a lot of yelling. He tries to not do things that make Hajime sad.</i>
</p><p><i>And then Hajime visibly swallows as he glances around him, his lips pressing tight in that way that they do when he's trying hard to</i> not <i>feel something, and Tooru takes the stairs at a stumbling run, because he just can't stand there and let Hajime think that Tooru's not there to greet him. </i></p><p>
  <i>He already wasn't there when Hajime needed him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The decent isn't graceful at all, though - he knows that he's limping, limping so badly Hajime must be able to see it - and Hajime's already cursing by the time Tooru's in his arms. Tooru manages to not just barrel into him - Hajime is hurt, after all, and Tooru is going to be oh-so careful with him - but it's a close thing, with how unstable they both are, the floor tilting under him as Tooru whimpers and buries his face into Hajime's chest.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He smells like home. He smells like blood and dirt and days without a shower, and he always, always smells like home.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Over

**Author's Note:**

> Reading my [whole little Haikyuu!! zombie AU series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/502246) would make this make the most sense, but, more specifically for IwaOi, the most relevant bits are [Ragdoll](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7406215) and then [Above Ground](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7711036), since this is a direct sequel to both of those.
> 
> Also, thanks so much to folks who have left comments on this series! I've really enjoyed writing it.

It's raining as the group comes trudging back into the bunker.

They're not all there, of course. Some of them stayed behind to keep working on the theme park. 

Hajime _is_ there, though. Drenched to the bone, with a bandage wrapped around his head, and his face covered in scruff as he steps into the bunker's main entrance, even as the big concrete door slowly slides shut behind him. Kuroo and Kiyoko are there, too, but they're an afterthought, flickering on the edges of Tooru's vision. His fingers are digging into the railing in front of him, and all he can see is Hajime.

It's like he can feel his heartbeat through every aching inch of his body, right down to the his very bones. 

Down in the open space in front of him, Hajime raises a hand to wipe the rain off his face, left there standing alone as Kuroo and Kiyoko are swept away by the smaller bodies that come crashing into them, with Kenma smothering his face in Kuroo's chest as Kuroo's arms wrap around him, and Yachi curling herself up around Kiyoko like she's terrified to ever let go. Tooru had wanted to be down there, too, but he'd ended up falling down the first flight of stairs, both his legs giving out as he'd landed on one of them wrong. He'd only just managed to pull himself back up with the railing as the bunker door had started to open, and now he's frozen, nothing inside him working right as he watches Hajime stand there and scowl, one of his hands bandaged as he raises is to wipe some more of the rain out of his hair. 

He's pretty sure if Hajime watches him try to stumble down the remaining stairs between them, their reunion is going to consist of a lot of yelling. He tries to not do things that make Hajime sad.

And then Hajime visibly swallows, his hand dropping as he glances around him, his lips pressing tight in that way that they do when he's trying hard to  _not_ feel something, and Tooru takes the stairs at a stumbling run, because he just  _can't_ stand there and let Hajime think that Tooru's not there to greet him. 

He already wasn't there when Hajime needed him.

The decent isn't graceful at all, though - he  _knows_ that he's limping, limping so badly Hajime must be able to see it - and Hajime's already cursing by the time Tooru's in his arms. Tooru manages to not just barrel into him - Hajime is  _hurt,_ after all, and Tooru is going to be oh-so careful with him - but it's a close thing, with how unstable they both are, the floor tilting under him as Tooru whimpers and buries his face into Hajime's chest.

He smells like home. He smells like blood and dirt and days without a shower, and he always, always smells like home.

"Jesus, Tooru." It's practically a wheeze, and Hajime's arms around him are crushing. "Could - could you just take care of yourself for once in your goddamn life, you -"

Hajime's voice cracks and dies, like the words have gotten stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat, and Tooru whimpers again as he pushes closer, his nose squishing against Hajime's chest as he presses his face harder against him. He's not close enough, though. He's never close enough, and he wasn't there when Hajime needed him, he was stuck here, he was useless, and Hajime got hurt, and - and now he's standing here with his arms wrapped around Tooru. He's standing here, arms caged tight around him like he's trying to comfort him, because of  _course_ he's worrying about Tooru before himself, he's  _always_ worrying about Tooru before himself; and Tooru  _should_ pull away, he should be the strong one, for once in his entire fucking life - but he's pretty sure that Hajime draws some of his strength from looking after him, anyway. 

That doesn't mean Tooru is just going to stand here forever, though. Hajime's still hurt, and he should be resting, and comfort goes both ways - Tooru's learned over the years how to be there for Hajime, too, when Hajime needs him; and Hajime, in turn, has actually learned to let him help - and Tooru's legs are shaking as he finally pulls back, slowly straightening to look down at Hajime. Hajime's expression is cracking, though - his face is doing that thing it does when he's fighting tears, Tooru _knows_ it is, he can see it in his every pinched line of his face - and he swallows hard as he raises a hand to the bandage on Hajime's head, and then drops it, thinking better of it. 

Not here. This isn't the place for affection. Not with people watching. Not with Hajime looking like he's seconds from breaking as badly as Tooru already has.

"C'mon. Let's get you into bed."

His voice doesn't sound right, like his throat's been rubbed raw with sandpaper, and Hajime stares up at him for a second before his lips wobble into the tiniest twitch of a grin, his eyes gone red in a way that hurts Tooru right through.

"Jeez, Shittykawa. Home for two minutes, and you're already hitting on me?"

He doesn't sound right, either, his tiny attempt at a grin already wobbling, and Tooru closes he curls down to bury his face in Hajime's shoulder, the tears finally starting to spill. It's like nothing in the world exists but the feeling of Hajime pressed against him, and Hajime lets him stand there, for a moment, his arms wrapping back tight around him, until he nudges him, just slightly. It's an unmistakable - and painfully gentle - signal for them to start walking, and Tooru lets himself be helped, Hajime's arm sliding under his shoulder as they hobble towards the staircase, with Hajime's arm holding him up and Tooru's heart aching so badly it's a wonder it's not actually fracturing.

Hajime's alive. Tooru wasn't there for him, and he'll hate himself forever for that, but Hajime's still breathing, and that's all the matters.

\- - -

Three days later finds Tooru standing in his new room at the theme park.

They'd just passed out, that first night. They'd stayed upright long enough to change all their bandages, with Tooru's fingers trembling against Hajime's hair and Hajime's hands so gentle on Tooru's mangled leg it had almost made him cry all over again, and then they'd passed out, with Hajime still covered in filth, and both of them too exhausted to do anything but cling to each other under their thin blankets. Tooru doesn't actually remember drifting off - he'd been so focused on staying awake, desperately pressing his ear against Hajime's chest and listening to the steady _alivealivealive_ thump of his heartbeat - but he must have eventually fallen asleep, because he'd woken up the next morning with Hajime's skin smelling like soap and his body still shower-damp and his hands and mouth so fucking _desperate_ on Tooru's skin it had been enough to wrench all the air out of his lungs.

He'd ended up with Hajime on his back on the lumpy old mattress, and Tooru wimpering as he'd pressed deep inside him, fucking him as carefully and gently as he could possibly manage, his own limbs gone liquid and Hajime practically ragdoll limp under him, clinging to him like nothing in the world existed other than Tooru; and when Hajime had choked on a groan and held on tighter, his broken little, _thought I'd never make it home, I thought I'd never see you again, I thought I'd left you alone,_ rasped against Tooru's ear, Tooru had cried along with him and held him as close as he could get until they'd both finally gone over the edge, clinging to each other so hard it would have been a miracle if any air had been left in between.

They've barely left each other's sides since. Hajime keeps holding on to his hand like he's afraid to let go, and Tooru can't seem to look away from him for so much as a second.

And now here they are. Safely through the horrifying forest outside, and standing in the theme park room that's apparently going to be theirs for the forseeable future. Hajime is behind him with his arms wrapped around him, pressed as close as he can get, and since he's not tall enough to rest his chin on Tooru's shoulder, his nose is presed bumping into the center of Tooru's back, his breath slow and slighly uneven and his forehead resting softly between Tooru's shoulderblades. It's all a little too gentle for Tooru to deal with, and it's not helping with the sight in front of him, which is already making his stupid knees shake and bringing new tears to his eyes.

"Iwa-chan."

His voice is barely there. He thinks he can hardly be blamed for that, though. There's next to nothing in the room - one ratty mattress on the floor, barely covered by a ragged blanket, along with a cardboard box beside the bed that's apparently going to double as their nightstand - but Hajime's somehow found an entire candle to sit on the floor beside their bed, and - more importantly - there's a poster on the wall, taped right above their bed.

It's an alien. Big-eyed and bright green, like it's been modelled after every alien stereotype known to humankind.

Tooru's crying. He can't help it.

"Iwa... Iwa-chan..."

"Found it buried away near one of the carnival games." Hajime's voice is hoarse, rasped low and shaky against his back, and he sounds so embarassed his ears are probably burning. "Believe it or not, finding some tape to put it up was actually the hardest part."

It wavers on the way out, like he's going for humour but can't quite himself there, and Tooru can't breathe for a moment, everything inside him aching and pulling tighter and tighter, until it's like something inside him finally, finally breaks. His breath is more like a sob as he twists in Hajime's arm and shoves his face into his shoulder and his arms around him, not missing the way Hajime sucks in a breath that sounds like it hurts.

"Tooru..."

"I - I'm sorry." He still can't breathe. He can barely say it. His eyes are wet and burning, and he can feel the snot dripping down his nose and onto Hajime's shirt. "I left you, I should have _been_ there, I -"

"You were _hurt_ -"

"I _shouldn't_ have been, though! I - I should have _been_ there, I should have _saved_ you -"

"You did, though." His voice is soft, barely audible, and more than enough to cut Tooru off, and it's like the whole world is frozen, waiting on the moment, until Hajime swallows and carefully rubs his hands down Tooru's back. "I... I went down under a whole pack of those monsters, you know. Thought I was done for. And, I mean - I got back up for _me,_ too, but... but even more than that, I had your voice in my head the whole time."

The words are falling even gentler, now, and Tooru feels weak, like every muscle in his body has turned to liquid, with Hajime's name getting stuck on his tongue as his voice tries to choke its way out.

"Iwa..."

"You were there yelling at me the whole time, telling me that you needed me to get back up and come home. You didn't even have to be there to save me."

His hands are still gentle on Tooru's back, barely moving as he drags his fingers in slow lines against him, and Tooru just hangs there, suspended, the words twisting up inside him and carving new little cracks all through him, until he finally lets himself sag, counting on Hajime to hold him up. Hajime's arms go strong around him, the way they always have, and Tooru can't hear the truth of it, he _knows_ that he needed to be there, but - maybe there is something to what Hajime's saying. Tooru's always got Hajime's voice in his head, too, after all. He can always hear Hajime telling him to always come home, no matter what.

Maybe Tooru really is able to do the same thing for Hajime.

And while that's not much - while he's still going to hate himself forever - at least it's something.

Most importantly, thought, Hajime is still breathing. Nothing matters more than that.

With that thought in mind, it takes Tooru several tries to choke out the little, "Okay, Iwa-chan," that he eventually forces past his lips, something in him loosening just the slighest bit when Hajime sighs in a way that sounds almost relieved, like he'd needed Tooru to at least get a bit of truth from what he was saying. It all leaves them hanging there for a few more moments, barely breathing, until Hajime shifts against him, his hand coming up to cup the back of Tooru's neck, thumb rubbing over his skin in that soothing way of his that never fails to make Tooru weak-kneed. Now is no exception, but before he can say anything, Hajime's taking a deep breath.

"So... so what ya gonna name that fucking alien, then?"

His voice is close to a mutter, and he sounds like he's gone the colour of a tomato again. Tooru sucks in a breath against the staggering rush of love that swells through him, pressing his face harder against Hajime's shoulder. He feels like he's been shattered, broken apart and put back together, the way that only Hajime's always known how to do. No one else can meld Tooru's jagged edges back together, can craft him into something that makes sense, but Hajime's always been able to.

The thought doesn't help with his attempts to get his breath back, and he had to swallow hard, a few times, his throat sticking uncomfortably, until he's able to speak.

"... Iwa-chan."

"Hmm?" Hajime's voice is pretty much nothing but a low rumble, his nose all but nuzzling against the side of his neck as he presses them closer together, and Tooru bites his lip, a sudden, helpless, desperate grin spreading over his face, affection spreading hot and devestating through him, until Hajime finally pauses, and then it's like Tooru can hear Hajime's eyebrows furrowing together. "You're really fucking funny, you know?"

"What, you don't think it looks like you?" His voice cracks on the way out - he's not going to cry again, he's _not_ \- and when Hajime makes a shaky little low growling noise, Tooru just falls even fucking harder, tightening his arms around him as he tries to make his wavering voice keep working, a new idea crashing up through him, stripping away whatever semblence of composure he might have had left. "Well, if - if ya don't like that one, maybe... I dunno, we could just call it ET? Cause. Cause we kinda finally called home, here, and maybe actually got there?"

His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest. There's something like wild, desperate hope, suddenly, burning frantic inside him, the stupid fucking alien boggling at them from the wall as Hajime goes very still, freezing against him, like he's actually able to make sense of the absolute fucking _useless_ rambling that's coming out of Tooru's mouth, like he actually _gets_ what Tooru's getting at, here; and then Hajime swallows and pulls him closer, squeezing like he thinks he can meld Tooru's shaking body against his own. It only serves to make Tooru shake even worse.

"Home, huh."

It sounds a bit choked. And of course Hajime gets it. This tiny room in their new base, above ground... it's all theirs, stupid alien poster and all, and they can walk outside and see the sun and the moon and the stars. They can plant some fucking potatoes and beans and feel the wind on their skin, and Hajime will be safe here. Safer than he's been in years. And it might not be home yet, but maybe they could let it get there, given enough time.

The idea brings new ears to his eyes, and he barely manages a helpless little nod, squeezing his eyes shut and holding on, until Hajime finally swallows and gently whispers, "Okay, Tooru," into his hair, the words so laced with affection that Tooru can barely even stand to listen to them, and Tooru closes his eyes shut tighter, curling into the safety of Hajime's arms. Hajime's grip simply tightens further around him in response, his heart hammering between them, that steady _alivealivealive_ beat that Tooru is always going to cling to.

Hajime, alive and in his arms. Here, in their ragged little new home, where they seem to finally be getting a new start.

The world might still be crumbling around them, but they've made it this far, somehow, scratching their way through everything the world's thrown at them; and as long as Tooru has this man in his arms, he's never giving up.


End file.
